Homecoming
by Ann T. Septic
Summary: Russia comes home. He hasn't had the best of days/weeks/months, and Belarus doesn't help, though she tries very hard. Human names interchanged with countries.


Natalia looked into the mirror, straightening her collar once again. She finally decided that she looked as good as she was going to, and plucked the brilliant sunflower from the vanity table. She stomped out of her room purposefully in her black boots and out of her house. Locking the door behind her, she shivered slightly in the cold. Maybe she'd get Ivan to lend her his scarf, that is, if he was home today. He'd been out recently, and Natalia hadn't seen her brother for weeks. She was beginning to get a bit annoyed by his disappearance, and hoped, for his sake, that he wasn't over at Lithuania's house again. She'd gotten sick of the way that Liet was always hanging around Ivan, trying to steal him from her, she bet.

Ivan stumbled into his house through the back door. Slamming it shut behind him, he made his way into the kitchen where he might find some respite from the aching of his head, maybe he'd be able to forget the last few weeks if he tried hard. Ivan sighed as he poured his amnesia into a glass. Those farmers hadn't deserved what they'd gotten, they were just trying to get ahead in life, living the American Dream and all that. What was the Soviet Dream then, Ivan wondered. He supposed, according to the Comrade, that it was what he was living right now, working together towards a better future. But, according to Comrade, lots of odd things were correct. Just today Ivan had been ordered to get grain from a small village that used to be fairly prosperous, before Comrade decided that farms should work like factories. He shuddered, he'd _known_ that those families didn't have any grain to spare, but he had had to get some anyway, for Comrade to sell to China and the rest of the world while Russians starved. Ivan poured himself another glass of vodka, feeling its burn down into his belly.

Natalia came in through the front door of Ivan's house, making sure that nothing was out of place on the door. Ivan had gotten mad the last time that she'd broken something in his house, and she didn't like making him mad. That wasn't what you did to someone you loved. Natalia stepped into the doorway, reveling in the warmth, she kicked off her heavy black boots, making herself a bit shorter. She pulled off her gloves too, and the sweater that she'd worn for the walk next door. Ivan always kept his house extra warm, longing for some place that he couldn't be. Natalia smiled, she and her brother differed there, whereas Ivan was always wishing to be someplace else, Natalia enjoyed where she lived, liking the snow and ice and frigid cold. "Iva-n!" Natalia called out, hoping that her brother was home, "Where are you?" She heard the clink of a glass being set down, and walked into the kitchen. "There you are Ivan!" She exclaimed, ecstatic to see him.

Ivan sighed as he heard the front door shut quietly and the thud of boots being kicked off. He poured himself another glass of vodka, he was going to need it if Belarus was already coming over. At her voice grating on his ears, Ivan steeled himself for the inevitable. She ran into the kitchen, holding a vibrant sunflower in her hands, for him again. Ivan truly did love sunflowers, but as of late his sister Nat had been giving them to him so much that he was starting to despise them. She grabbed his right arm, placing the flower in his hand, smiling madly the whole time. Ivan tried to muster a weak smile, for her sake. He took the sunflower and placed it into a makeshift vase of an old glass bottle. Placing the flower on the windowsill, he turned to face his sister once again.

"Brother! Did you see my new dress?" Natalia exclaimed, "I bought it with you in mind. Now, if only you would marry me and I could wear things like this all the time!" She spun about, to give him the full view of her dress. As all her other dresses were, this one was midnight blue, but it wasn't a dress for a little girl, unlike her previous dresses. This dress was form fitting, tailored to her body, and with a low neckline like the fashions in France. Her hair still fell about her shoulders in waves though, matching Ivan's own hair color. Natalia grinned, "What do you think, do you like it?"

Ivan eyed his sister as he poured himself another glass of alcohol. Sure, the dress was pretty, but she still wanted to marry him, and he, well, he _didn't_ want to marry her. Nat made him so angry sometimes…(And the vodka probably wasn't helping.) So he answered her with what he thought, "No, Nat, I don't really." He said, using her kid name and not looking at her as he poured himself another glass. "I don't like the dress and I don't like how you insist that you're going to marry me, even though you know it's never going to happen. Go after that little pig Liet, he's been pining after you since you were little."

The small country Belarus scowled, spoiling the illusion of her doll-like appearance, "Shut up Ivan, you're going to marry me. I love you, you know that. And Liet's practically swooning after you too, it's disgusting. Besides, I want to be married to you! I want you!" Finished, she leaned against the wall with a smug smile on her face.

Half a second later, that smile disappeared. Ivan had pinned her to the wall, his large frame obscuring her smaller one. "Really, sister?" He asked, and she could smell the alcohol on his breath, "**Really**?" He held her forearms against the wall with his large hands, looking down at her face, "You want me, da? Do you want **this**?" At this he crashed his mouth into hers, the vodka invading her mouth. Natalia's arms struggled weakly, trying to get rid of him. He pressed on, until he was out of breath, and simply could not stand it any longer. Belarus gasped for air when he relented to take another swig out of his bottle because he'd abandoned the glass. She shook herself, tried to straighten her messy hair, and dress, to no avail.

She grinned forcibly, "Haha, silly, of course I do. I love you." At this she ran out of the kitchen to the front door, grabbing her thick black boots before leaving. She ran outside, trying to hold back the sniffles and tears as she ran back next door to her own house.

"I thought not." Ivan whispered as he took another drink.


End file.
